


The Failed Ambush

by MadamSnark



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Gen, One Shot, Pre-Relationship, Zevran/Warden Week 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 02:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10064801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamSnark/pseuds/MadamSnark
Summary: Finally edited and now posting another short ZevWarden Week piece: August 1 Prompt: “The Grey Warden dies here!”How Kallian and the origins crew react to meeting Zevran and what makes her decide to spare his life.





	

The blond elf’s blade matched Kallian’s blow for blow. He was skilled, quick, and he was  _ really _ good. In fact, so good that it scared her to see the number of times his eyes perfectly followed her movements, easily able to predict where her next strike would land, yet barely made the effort to dodge. This elf, with the black tattoos sweeping down his face, was  _ dangerous _ .

Kallian knew she had left openings by accident. She was by no means perfect, well taught, but minimal practice. One moment she had struck out and he caught her blade, leaving her arm outstretched, armpit exposed. His eyes shifted down then locked with hers as he simply spun away from her other blade arcing towards him. She _ knew _ he saw the opening. Why didn’t he take it? Was he simply playing with her as a cat would a mouse? Was this all a game; to see how long it took before she gave out?

Kallian risked a glance to check on her companions. Morrigan was casting, Leliana beside her firing arrows at the paralyzed men. Kallian snapped her head back, barely missing the edge of a dagger hurtling towards her. Where was Alistair? And Fang? Hopefully watching each other’s backs.

Kallian had to take several steps back as the elf’s swings became more aggressive, even faster paced, as if urging her to focus on the fight, on him. Kallian feinted left then stabbed towards the right viciously. He crossed his daggers to catch hers but that left him open from the left for her to make the killing blow. 

His dark amber eyes met hers and she saw no fear, only relief before he closed them, waiting for the blow. Kallian saw his acceptance, her blade stopping an inch from his neck. Reason flew out the window, instinct took over and she slammed the pommel of her dagger to his temple, causing him to crumple to the ground.

“I could use some healing. Poultice? Anybody?” Alistair finally appeared, gripping his upper arm where a sword got him and Fang bounding gleefully beside him, blood covering his maw. “Hold on, why is he alive?”

Alistair nudged the unconscious elf’s arm with his foot as he begrudgingly let Morrigan patch him up. She did have the supply of poultices after all. 

Kallian twisted the ends of her own dark blond hair with nervous fingers. Would anybody believe her if she told them about how he seemed to lose the fight in himself? He gave up! She needed answers. She couldn’t put her finger on why, just that she needed to know more. Kallian decided on a half-truth. “He’s alive because he knew who we were, and seemed to be specifically targeting us. We need to find out where he’s from. What if there are others?”

The elf stirred as she said that, groaning and grabbing the side of his head where she had struck him. He cursed in a language Kallian didn’t recognize. A foreigner? His tanned complexion had her guessing he was from somewhere further north, but that was as best she could gather.

Bleary amber eyes blinked slowly before landing on Kallian in shock. “I rather thought I would wake up dead,” his warm voice and accent carried to her and her companions.

“We needed answers.” Kallian tried to put a hard edge on her voice, though wasn’t sure she succeeded when the elf’s face lit up and his lips turned up in a half smirk.

“Well let me save you the trouble. My name is Zevran, or Zev to my friends. I am an Antivan Crow, hired to kill the last of Ferelden’s Grey Wardens. Though, clearly I have failed,” he said lightly. 

“Antivan Crows?” Kallian turned to her companions in confusion. 

“An assassin order from Antiva. Known to be the best in the business. Though now I am not so sure.” Leliana raised an eyebrow at the assassin still on the ground.

The words turned over and over again in her mind. Hired to kill? It had to be Loghain. But desperate enough to pay someone to have her and Alistair killed?

“So you got paid to kill us?” For a professional, his ambush was rather pathetic. The tree falling alone gave them ample warning to prepare, then the obvious hand signals, the strangely held back fight…

Zevran laughed, “Me? Paid? No no no, my friend.  _ I _ was not paid. The  _ Crows _ were. I would receive a portion upon completion of my task. Though now that I have failed, my life is forfeit, and apparently I am quite pleased to still be alive, so I might want to continue that trend of living.”

“What’s to stop him for turning around and stabbing us in the backs if we let him go?” Alistair shouted hotly, walking over with his arm mostly healed.

Zevran’s eyes narrowed at the large human. “Funny thing about the Crows - they never really give you much choice. I was bought for a fairly decent price, or so I’m told. Is it such a problem that I might not be as loyal to my buyers as you would apparently like me to be?”

“What are you getting at?” Kallian was cautious, but felt for him. He was painting a picture of a life not chosen by him, but _for_ him. Kallian had been forced to steal to keep her family fed. She stole for her neighbours. She stole for her cousins. Was she a bad person for doing so? Perhaps, but being a city elf, it’s not as if one has a lot of options. Particularly if _bought_ , she nearly blanched. As good as slavery in her opinion.  
  
Zevran attempted to stand up, but Alistair drew his sword, pointing it at the elf with a nasty glare.

“Alistair!”

“What? He tells you a sob story and suddenly you trust him?” He turned to her, sword still holding Zevran on the ground.

“That’s not it at all! Just… I just. Let him speak, okay?”

Alistair grumbled but sheathed his sword, standing with a glare burning through the back of Zevran’s head as he walked towards Kallian.  
  
“My thought is this: I owe you my life, in return for you sparing me, I pledge an oath to you, and I get to leave my life with the Crows behind, as well as keep living.”

“Just like that? You switch sides?” 

“It’s not as if I have anything against you personally. You are not the ones claiming my life is forfeit after all. This is the Crows, no? I help you face this blight, I prove myself useful, everybody wins, yes?”

“Until we wake up with a knife in our back,” Alistair chimed in.

“You really would leave the Crows behind, just like that?” Kallian pressed, for some reason hoping that she could trust him.  
  
Something dark passed behind Zevran’s eyes but when he next met her eyes, they were clear again, and his seemingly characteristic smirk was plastered back on his face. “It is not as if the Crows have done so much for me. Some coin here and there, yes, and women when the time was right, but there are no shortage of women here are there?” Zevran’s glance passed from Kallian to Leliana and then landed on Morrigan, sweeping along all her pale exposed skin.

“If you even think about it, elf, you will find yourself a toad,” Morrigan’s ice-cold glare pinned Zevran’s wandering eyes in place.  
He chuckled good naturedly, “I see. Well there are others who might not find me so repulsive. If it is not a blade you need, I’m told I make an excellent bed-warmer.” 

Kallian flushed tomato red when his eyes slid back to her at the last comment.  
  
“That’s besides the point,” she rolled her eyes, hating her face for being so quick to blush. “I accept your offer, Zevran.”

“The assassin? Really? The  _ assassin _ ,” Alistair emphasized as if Kallian had somehow forgotten.

“Yes. The assassin.”  
  
“Assassin is right here, you know,” Zevran spoke playfully despite the tension rolling off Alistair’s hunched shoulders.

“I don’t know why I let you lead, you know.”

“Yes…  _ let  _ me lead. You  _ made _ me leader so sorry, Alistair, you have to trust me on this decision.” Kallian couldn’t stop the venom from leaking into her voice. Again, Alistair was yelling at her over a decision she had made. As if this wasn’t hard enough.

“Fine, but you’re mad if you think we aren’t at least tying him up at night,” Alistair acquiesced. 

“A little rope goes a long way. A perfectly rational decision - I would expect no less from the fabled Grey Wardens,” Zevran chirped, strangely agreeable to the inevitable manhandling. 

She quirked a single eyebrow at the Antivan who flashed an innocent grin her way. It didn’t matter what Alistair said. Kallian had  _ seen  _ something. This Zevran, he didn't want to fight. He was doing a job out of necessity. Maybe Alistair didn't get that, but Kallian did. She could offer him a way out. Duncan had done that for her. She had just killed numerous guards and a noble, yet his hand extended towards her. She could do that for Zevran.

“Well? Do we have ourselves an assassin? Bed-warmer? Whatever the case may be,” she teased, trying to put the elf at ease after Alistair’s repeated aggression.

Zevran bowed to her and looked her dead in the eye, “I am your man, without reservation. This I swear.” He patted some dust off his legs then grinned, flashing white teeth. “And the bed-warming part is only for you, my Warden.”

Kallian’s face felt hot and she turned away. Was it all a ploy? But that look of defeat in his eyes… Already he was proving to be a man of many masks, and Kallian’s curiosity was enough to draw her to him. This quick witted, flirtatious, undeniably good-looking elf, was very dangerous indeed. 


End file.
